


Hold Me Tight (To Ward Off the Nightmares)

by BananaChef



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ahhhhhhhh, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Romance, Canon-Typical Speech, Comfort Sex, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Jaime's super excited to be a dad, Knight Brienne of Tarth, Night Terrors, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, POV braime, Pregnant Brienne of Tarth, They're so in love omg, Unplanned Pregnancy, i actually tried to get the speech patterns right lol, i didn't plan for that to happen, i love: them, it was all a bad dream, jaime didn't actually leave brienne, they didn't plan it and neither did i lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaChef/pseuds/BananaChef
Summary: Jaime took a deep breath and let out a shuddering sigh; he explained the contents of his dream, watching the faint glow of the fire in her eyes and the downturn of her brows. “I—I didn’twantto leave, I wanted to stay. With you. But I couldn’t. I had no choice but to leave.”“I know that you’ll never leave me.There,you had no choice.Here,” she paused, taking his hand to place it over her beating heart, “you had a choice. You made your choice. You rode here to honor your pledge to fight the dead, but you stayed for me.”
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Sansa Stark & Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	Hold Me Tight (To Ward Off the Nightmares)

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a sequel to [I’ll Stay Here Forever (Buried in Your Love)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546232), but you don’t need to read it to understand this one.

_“They’re going to destroy that city. You know that they will,” Brienne told him as he—saddled up a horse?_

_Somehow he knew he was going back to King’s Landing, back to Cersei, but that was wrong, wrong,_ wrong. _He couldn’t leave Brienne, except—_

_“Have you ever run away from a fight?” he replied._

_Suddenly he was looking into her eyes, which were a brighter sapphire blue in the moonlight than they ever had been before; she was making him look at her, and he was trying to look away, but that, too, was wrong, wrong,_ wrong.

Why would I ever look away from those eyes? _he thought._

_“You’re not like your sister. You’re not,” Brienne was saying, as earnestly as he’d ever seen her do. “You’re better than she is. You’re a good man, and you cannot save her. You don’t need to die with her.” She was going to cry, he knew it. But she couldn’t cry. That would break him._

Don’t cry, _he wanted to say._ I won’t leave you. I could never leave you.

_“Stay here. Stay with me,” she begged. Brienne never begged—she was too strong and fierce and loyal—but she was doing so now. “Please. Stay...”_

Oh, gods, she’s crying, _he thought, unable to piece together more than an observation. He wanted to cry, too. He wanted to hug her and tell her that if he had a choice, he’d stay. But he had no choice here._ I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

_“You think that I’m a good man...” Jaime fought as hard as he could against the words that were coming out of his mouth, but he couldn’t stop them. “I pushed a boy out a tower window and crippled him for life, for Cersei. I strangled a man with my bare hands, just to get back to Cersei. I would have murdered every man, woman, and child in Riverrun, for Cersei.”_

But I didn’t, _he thought,_ I didn’t kill them all. Brienne stopped me. Brienne showed me how to be good.

_He couldn’t look in her eyes for long anymore. “She’s hateful. And so am I.” He mounted his horse and rode off as Brienne sobbed, not looking back._

Go back to her! _he wanted to yell._ Go back to her and apologize and tell her that you love her! _But he couldn’t. He had no choice._ I’m sorry.

* * *

Suddenly Jaime sat up, surrounded by darkness. He felt their bed underneath him, the furs gripped in his hand; he heard the gentle breathing of the woman he loved next to him; but he saw nothing, suffocating in the night’s all-consuming darkness. Shivering without the furs around him, he made his way over to the fireplace, narrowly avoiding clothing items and furniture. Groping in the darkness for some wood and flint, he found them and lit the fire, waiting for the flames to become stable. Jaime used the meager light from the fire to find his tunic and trousers, pulling them on before pouring himself a drink of water from the pitcher leftover from last night. He ran his hand over his face, staring into the small fire, when someone moved in their bed. He turned around in his chair to look at Brienne.

“Jaime?” she murmured groggily, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Why are you awake so early?”

He took another swig from his cup before answering. “Nightmare.” He could feel her frown. He whispered, “It was of you,” unable to say any more of it without getting emotional.

 _Do you want to talk about it?_ Jaime expected her to ask. He was wrong.

“Come back to bed,” Brienne requested softly, so he did, setting down his cup on the table before sitting on her side of the bed. He gazed at the wall for a moment before Brienne reached out to cup his cheek and turn his face to her. “Tell me.” She neither asked nor demanded.

Jaime took a deep breath and let out a shuddering sigh; he explained the contents of his dream, watching the faint glow of the fire in her eyes and the downturn of her brows. “I—I didn’t _want_ to leave, I wanted to stay. With you. But I couldn’t. I had no choice but to leave.”

“I know that you will never leave me. _There,_ you had no choice. _Here_ ,” she paused, taking his hand to place it over her beating heart, “you had a choice. You made your choice. You rode here to honor your pledge to fight the dead, but you stayed for me.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Jaime mumbled, closing his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall. They escaped and slid down his face.

“You do, Jaime. You _do_ ,” Brienne told him, voice heavy with emotion. “I will keep telling you that every day of our lives until you get it through that thick head of yours that we met for a _reason._ ” She kissed away his tears, swallowing back her own. “This is _our_ choice, _our_ love, and _our_ life. This isn’t about who deserves whom. This is about who _loves_ whom. If you love me as I love you, there is nothing to stop us from being together.”

“Brienne...” he whispered, turning his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “ _Gods,_ I don’t—I don’t have the words to tell you how much you mean to me.”

“Then show me.” She kissed him, claiming his lips as she cupped his face with both her hands. The furs fell to her waist and her skin broke into gooseflesh. _“Show me.”_

“If it pleases you,” Jaime murmured against her lips, kissing her as she moved her hands down to the hem of his shirt.

“It does.”

Together, they maneuvered his shirt off, tossing it to the floor as they kissed and kissed and kissed. He wanted to drown in her lips; he wanted to stay here in bed with her forever and never leave. Jaime climbed under the furs to crawl on top of Brienne as she undid the strings of his breeches; with some difficulty, they ended up on the floor as well.

“Love me, Jaime,” she requested, capturing his lips again. “I love you.”

“I love you as well,” he whispered against her skin, entering her gently. “I wish I could tell you how much.” His voice broke.

“I know. I know.” She dragged her cropped nails down his back as he moved. “I understand.”

He reached his climax a moment after her, spilling inside as he collapsed into her waiting arms.

* * *

Brienne missed her moonsblood. At first, she assumed it was just late. But it never came. She wasn’t stupid—she looked for the usual signs she’d heard and learned about. She found that, despite not being very womanly, she displayed tender breasts ( _Are they any bigger yet? Or simply a bit tender?_ ) and a bigger appetite than usual.

Perhaps she should have procured moon tea from someone within the castle or been warier of her activities with Jaime, but she could never bring herself to do either action. She knew that both of them wanted children, but they had never talked about it in more than a _one-day_ capacity. Yet, she found herself _wanting_ the life their child would bring—and sooner, rather than later or _one day_.

Dressed in the armor Jaime gifted her what felt like a lifetime ago and her mantle of fur to fend off the winter chill, she ventured out into the cold, cloudy Winterfell morning. Brienne found Lady Sansa breaking her fast in the great hall, seated at the head of the high table. She took her place to Sansa’s right amidst the soft conversations of her lady’s counsel.

“Good morning, Ser Brienne,” Sansa bid her with a smile, “You seem well today. I trust both you and Ser Jaime had a good night’s sleep.”

“Good morning, Lady Sansa.” The corner of Brienne’s mouth tilted up at the younger woman’s jape as she piled food onto her plate. ( _Is it normal to eat this much? Did I always eat this much or am I eating more for the babe? Can Lady Sansa tell that I’m with child? I should see the maester and a septa to help make arrangements..._ ) “I prefer to keep such matters private, but I hope a simple ‘no’ will suffice.” The smile slipped from her face as she remembered last night.

“That is unfortunate,” Sansa replied in a tone that suggested it was not, in reality, unfortunate. “I wish you restful nights for the time that you stay here.”

Brienne thanked her before calmly broaching the subject that she had rehearsed after waking up. “If you can spare the time after we break our fasts, my lady, I have matters I would discuss with you.”

The lady of Winterfell nodded, appraising her sworn sword in an attempt to learn the reason for the meeting. “If it pleases you, Ser Brienne. We shall speak in my solar when you finish breaking your fast.”

Sansa glanced at Brienne’s plate and a blush infused her cheeks. “Thank you, Lady Sansa.”

* * *

The red-headed woman sat down opposite Brienne, gesturing to the seat across the circular table; she took it, fingers rubbing the golden lion on Oathkeeper’s hilt. The two women were silent for a moment as she fumbled for words.

“I trust you with my life, Brienne. I hope you can say the same, if not in the same manner. If you would say something that needs to stay between us, you only have to tell me. It will not leave this room.”

Brienne’s eyes pricked with sudden tears and she smiled at her friend. _Yes, I suppose that’s what we are._ “I thank you, Lady Sansa.”

“Oh, do drop the titles, Brienne. We are close enough now to confide in each other. Titles seem rather arbitrary, do they not?” Sansa’s smile reached her blue eyes as she met her friend’s.

Brienne sighed shakily, looking at the wooden table before up at Sansa. “I would ask your leave to withdraw as your sworn sword.” The other woman’s eyebrows raised slightly but she said nothing. “I have a mind to leave Winterfell...with Ser Jaime.”

“I see.” She couldn’t tell how Sansa truly felt about her words, but it soon became clear when she leaned back in her chair. “I could use the both of you. I cannot very well leave Winterfell—there must always be a Stark here, as my mother and father both believed before me. I would have you be my voice when the armies march to King’s Landing.”

Brienne was touched that Sansa would give her such a high position. “You honor me, but I fear for a life—the one of the child I carry inside me. I would see them born on my home island of Tarth, as my siblings and ancestors were. I would be indebted to you, Sansa, if you let Jaime and I travel home as swiftly as possible. I don’t know how long we have until...” She swallowed, the sudden reality of what was happening hitting her with its full force.

“Of course,” Sansa said without a hint of hesitation or regret. “I’ll arrange transport with you and Ser Jaime tonight as we supp. You can’t very well take the kingsroad, and the eyes in King’s Landing may be watching even as far north as Moat Cailin. Hopefully, you two will be gone in a week. If we’re unlucky, a fortnight.”

“Thank you, my l—Sansa. We’ll not forget this.”

* * *

She talked to Jaime when they met up in the training yard around midday: “I spoke with Lady Sansa after we broke our fasts this morning.”

He grunted in acknowledgment before unsheathing Widow’s Wail and taking up a defensive position against Brienne. “What did you talk of?”

She struck against him, waiting until they stepped away from each other to respond. “Leaving Winterfell. She wanted me to be her voice when the armies march to King’s Landing, but I refused.”

“You refused?” Jaime dropped his stance, eyebrows furrowed in confusion while his eyes were widened in concern.

“Yes. And I’m no longer her sworn sword, either.” Brienne met his gaze, waiting for a moment before dragging him inside the walls of the keep.

“Brienne, what’s the meaning of all this?” he asked, sheathing his sword as she followed suit.

She didn’t answer until they were safely inside their—her?—quarters. It all came pouring out, then. “I know we talked about having children and what we would do if we did but we never actually _planned_ for that scenario.” A moment of confused silence. “What I’m saying, Jaime, is that I’m with child. _Your_ child. _Our_ child. I...I want them to be born on Tarth. As I was, as my ancestors were. They’ll inherit all that I will, after all, and we’ll need to be married, as well.”

Jaime was silent for a long time before he spoke. “You’re with child?” His voice was wrecked, as it was the first time they— _not the time to think about such things._

“Yes,” Brienne confirmed softly. “Lady Sansa will help us plan our route to Tarth. We can’t travel by the Kingsroad and I wouldn’t want to risk traveling so long by water.”

He suddenly broke into a grin and strode over to her, using all of his strength to lift her up and spin her around in a circle. He lasted only a second or so before he had to set her down, but afterward, he stood on his toes to kiss her.

“This is wonderful!”

“It is?”

“Yes! Of course!” He started taking off her armor, struggling until Brienne helped him. He knelt on the floor and pushed up her shirt, revealing her stomach. “There’s a child in there.”

“Yes,” Brienne laughed, tears suddenly flooding her eyes. “There’s a child in there.”

She watched him swallow heavily before Jaime pressed his lips against her skin. “Cersei—she never—I always had to—she never let me near the kids. I never got to hold them—nothing.”

“You’ll hold ours as much as you’d like to, Jaime. That’s what _our child_ means.”

“Gods...” He kissed her stomach again, and continued to leave them on her skin, his stubble scratching her skin. “You are _infinitely_ amazing. You know that, right? You’re wonderful and beautiful and—”

“Oh, shut your mouth and get up here.”


End file.
